The other side of the moon
by Aleia15
Summary: Long time after the war someone from the past reappears to throw Ichigo's life into chaos. Grimmjow/Ichigo
1. Chapter 1

The other side of the moon

**The other side of the moon  
Part I**

"Ichigo!"

Ichigo looked up from the file he was studying to Renji's scowling face standing at his office's door.

"What is it? Can't you see I'm busy?" he said annoyed. It wasn't Renji's fault, but if he had known the amount of paperwork a Taichou needed to do and how bloody boring the job was, he would have never accepted the position.

"Busy, you idiot?" Renji approached him still scowling. "We are supposed to go to the Academy today. Don't tell me you've forgotten?"

He had.

"Fuck!"

"You have."

Ichigo stood up, dumping the file on top of his desk for another time and grabbing his white haori from the back of his chair. "Well, yes. Whose idea was to help with the Academy training anyway?"

Renji picked Zangetsu from its place next to the door and shoved into his hands. "It was Rukia's, and you agreed because you've never had the guts to say no to her."

"You also agreed."

"Yeah, but I have to share a bed with her and I've learned to pick my battles." Renji smirked. "Speaking of sharing a bed--"

Ichigo looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He knew the subject would come up eventually. It always did.

"I mean, don't you think is about time you consider finding someone?" Renji insisted. "It's been close to five decades since the end of the War, and I've heard your fukutaichou is giving you the eye."

"If I had any interest in a guy covered in tattoos, Renji," he said with a smirk of his own and a mock leer, "I'd look for the original. And anyway, Rikichi has eyes only for you."

Renji rolled his eyes, "You're not going to distract me, Ichigo. Rukia is worried. I am worried. Fuck, even Kuchiki-taichou is beginning to worry about you! It's been fifty years since then; can't you get over him and on with your life?"

Ichigo stopped and glared at him. "What do you mean?" he demanded angrily.

"I mean you and that fucking Espada. Do you think we didn't know?"

"Know what? What was there to know?"

It was Renji's turn to glare, "I knew then, and never said a fucking thing even though I didn't like it. I could see it: the fights, the wounds, the limping and those marks on your skin that weren't there after the battle… I'm not blind, you know, but we were at war and it seemed to help you relieve tension. You guys had the unhealthiest of relationships."

Ichigo shook his head and began walking again, not looking at his friend. "You know nothing. You didn't know then and you don't know now."

Renji grabbed his arm, "Ichigo--"

"Drop it, Renji. Now hurry up, we're already late."

It could be seen clearly on Renji's face he didn't want to. Finally, he sighed and clenched his jaw, nodding.

They picked up the pace in silence, not looking at each other while they rushed to the Academy training grounds.

Ichigo thought about what his friend had said. They knew. And they wanted him to get over it. But there was nothing to get over; especially not an annoying dead Espada. Ichigo liked his life just fine the way it was, he was in no hurry to meet someone special and he didn't feel lonely at all. He had good friends, a good life and a comfortable position in the Gotei 13. If Renji and Rukia couldn't understand it was because they had always known they were perfect for each other. Ichigo had not yet found his destined partner so he was more than happy to wait.

"By the way," Renji broke the awkward silence once they arrived at the Academy, resuming their normal pace, "there is a recruit Ikkaku wants us to check."

Ichigo looked at him interested, grateful for the conversation so he could stop his mind going over the same things again. "Ikkaku? Interested in a recruit?

"Yes. He told me yesterday he wants the guy for the 11th Division. He intends to follow Kenpachi in the way he manages it. It's the first time he's shown any interest in a recruit."

"I know; he usually accepts only transfers from other Divisions, provided the candidate is bloodthirsty enough. Who's the guy?"

Renji shrugged. "I don't know yet. He wants us to fight him during the training today. He might offer him the position depending on how he holds up against us."

"Against us?" Ichigo couldn't help but look impressed. They were supposed to supervise the training and demonstrate with a sparring session between them, but Taichous didn't usually engage in fights with trainees. "How do we recognize the guy?"

Another shrug. "He said we'll know."

"Fine. We're here." He looked at the training grounds and saw the class had already started, the students divided in pairs and ready to begin fighting. "We're not too late, let's--"

Ichigo did a double take, freezing. He blinked. No. That wasn't possible. Renji collided against his back but he barely felt it.

"Ichigo?"

He kept staring, his mouth agape.

In the middle of the training ground, fighting against the instructor was Grimmjow. But that wasn't possible: he was wearing shinigami clothes and there were no bones protruding from his face, but it was him--there was no mistaking that bright blue hair, or those blue eyes, or the crazed expression on his face while he attacked relentlessly.

It had to be him. I couldn't be anyone else.

"I think I know who Ikkaku was talking about," he said weakly.

...

_The cries of the wounded and dying faded slowly in the background; the only noise filling Ichigo's ears the pounding of his own heart. Around him a sea of blood and fire was spreading, the destruction of Las Noches almost complete. He had lost count long ago of the number of victims--arrancar, shinigami, human, it didn't matter--that stupid war had claimed. And he knew there would be even more by the end of the day._

_Aizen's name would be among them if they were lucky._

_He limped forward, the pain in his leg making it impossible for him to do more than drag it behind him. Gin had done a good job almost killing him, and he knew he was lucky to have only that wound to account for that battle but there was not time now to heal it. There would always be a chance later--if he was still alive._

_"Focus, Shinigami, we're almost there."_

_Ichigo nodded, pushing forward. The only way for them, forward, where Aizen was waiting. He didn't need to look back to know Grimmjow was still there. It was surprising, even if he had his doubts at the beginning, how well they fought together. Even more surprising was the fact that Grimmjow was still fighting by his side._

If I let you get killed I won't be able to beat you next time._ That had been his reason to change sides, and Ichigo didn't need another. This being Grimmjow, it was probably best believing that was the truth._

_Just a bit more, a few yards away, and Aizen and the last of the Espada would be waiting for them._

_"I can't let you pass," a voice he had heard before said in front of them; Ichigo grabbed his sword tighter, ready to deal with the obstacle._

_Tousen._

_A hand grabbed his sword arm. "I have a bone to pick with him, Shinigami. You carry on."_

_Ichigo nodded and continued forward. Always forward. _

...

It took him a few seconds to compose himself, his mind suddenly thrown back to that last time so many years ago.

"The fuck!" Renji's startled shout voiced his exact thoughts.

The recruits and the instructor noticed their presence at that exact moment, as if alerted by Renji's exclamation. Ichigo blinked, still too shocked to react in any other way.

"Class," the instructor called everyone and turned to the new arrivals. "We have Abarai and Kurosaki Taichou helping us today with the training."

The class greeted them as one man, all standing to attention. Or almost all of them. There was one recruit ignoring everything around him, his entire focus on his instructor, glaring at him for stopping his fight.

If Ichigo had had any doubt before, he was completely certain now. No one except that arsehole Grimmjow could look that petulant for being denied a beating.

Grimmjow turned to look at them when he realized the instructor wasn't going to resume the fight, his eyes narrowing in recognition when he saw Ichigo. He was in front of him in an instant, his face showing only perverse delight.

"So you finally found me, Shinigami," he said before attacking.

Had this been anyone else, Ichigo would have been annoyed at the disrespect and probably immobilized the unruly student before giving him the scolding of his life. A smile curling his lips, he blocked the blow with his hands, not bothering to unsheathe his sword. He elbowed Grimmjow in the face while everything around them faded, only his opponent in front of him and the blood rushing through his veins.

They sparred barehanded for a while; their eyes locked and twin insane grins on their faces. Ichigo barely felt the blows, fifty years of experience now showing where before there was only raw power and eagerness to fight. Grimmjow grabbed the hilt of his zanpakutou and Ichigo saw it as the cue to take hold of his.

He was about to release Zangetsu when Grimmjow suddenly stopped, four bars of light trapping him before a hit to the back of his head knocked him out. The next Ichigo felt was a powerful hit to the face, his mind returning to the present with a shock. Renji was staring at him furious and concerned at the same time. It seemed Ichigo wasn't the only one caught off guard judging for the delayed reaction.

"I still remember what you guys though was foreplay," he hissed, low enough only Ichigo heard him, "Have you forgotten where you are, _Taichou?"_

Ichigo flushed, embarrassed. He realized every single eye around was fixed on him and Grimmjow, some of them staring gaping at the daring recruit who attacked a Taichou, the rest looking amused at said Taichou's response to the attack.

_Damned Grimmjow!_ There was no one else in the world able to make him react like that.

He composed his thoughts and expression and called the instructor. "Please take this recruit to his rooms, he'll have to miss today's training exercise," he said with all the authority he could muster considering the situation. Ichigo nodded at Renji, who undid the kidou spell holding Grimmjow in place.

"Class will form in pairs," Renji said turning to the recruits with his sterner expression, one surely learned from his former Taichou. "We'll observe your fighting skills and correct you when necessary."

Ichigo took a deep breath, forcing his mind to move away from the fact that Grimmjow was there, alive. He would deal with that later; right now he couldn't afford to lose more respect that he surely already had.

"Later we will have a sparring session to demonstrate some techniques and we will pick the best of you to come on the next training exercise," he continued when Renji finished. "But before, how many of you have attained Shikai?"

Ichigo looked at the only hand raised and sighed; it was going to be a long day.

...

_Everything faded from Ichigo's consciousness the moment he entered the throne room._

_It was the only thing still intact in Las Noches and it looked like something out of a medieval movie, with the big throne on the top of the dais and Aizen sitting there looking at him amused._

_"I knew you would come, Kurosaki-kun," he said calmly._

_It was almost impossible to believe that someone who could smile with such gentleness was the most sadistic killer Ichigo had ever known._

_"This has to end, Aizen."_

_"And it will end, Kurosaki-kun," Aizen said calmly._

_Knowing this was a situation where words would do no good; Ichigo just called forth his mask and attacked. _

...

Grimmjow opened his eyes slowly, his head throbbing painfully. With a moan, he tried to sit up, the room swirling wildly around for a few seconds. ¿What the fuck was he doing in his room? The last thing he remembered was fighting with that stupid instructor at the Academy. He too a deep breath and forced his mind to move past the pain, to recall what had happened to him.

Not remembering was something that bothered Grimmjow quite a lot, though he never let it show.

Since the first time he had conscience of himself, when he was but a brat fighting for survival in the 75th Rukongai District, he had known there was something he should remember. Everyone told him it was useless to try, and with time he had stopped talking about it--but never trying. There was nothing in this world that could convince Grimmjow to stop trying to recall his previous life.

There was something very important locked inside his memories. Something he had been able to see, briefly, in dreams. Short, tantalizing snatches of a past life. Grimmjow clung to them the same way he clung to the name.

He had come into existence in Soul Society as a brat, full of rage and violence and with a deep sense of loss lodged somewhere inside him. He knew there was something different in him, something that made him special. But so far he had been unable to find what it was.

At first he didn't even have a name to give and the people around--the few who dared talk to him--called him Mizuiro, his bright blue eyes and hair giving him the name he couldn't remember. He took it: it was a good name, Grimmjow had nothing against it, but he knew it wasn't his.

It came to him one night, in a dream. It was irritating that he couldn't remember anything about his dreams except some disjointed images and the feeling that there was someone there. Someone important. That night was the same, a dream about blood and fire and that voice, that voice calling to him.

_"Grimmjow, you fucker!"_

He woke up with the knowledge that Grimmjow was his real name. He didn't share it, though. He had no one to share it with and no desire to even if he had. It was his.

It was the same with the few things he managed to gather through the years. Sometimes the other person would come into focus, just for a few seconds, and Grimmjow was not surprised to see it was a man. A boy would be the best definition, clad in the black Shinigami clothes.

He began paying attention to his surrounding, waiting to see if that mysterious boy from his memories appeared. But none of the Shinigami patrolling Rukongai bore even a passing resemblance to the one he was looking for. He knew that boy was the key to his memories.

The boy!

He remembered then what happened before.

The Academy training, they had explained to the whole class that two of the strongest Taichous would be supervising their training session. Grimmjow had been interested, how could he not? His entire class was made of weaklings and the instructor was nothing but an annoying pushover who didn't fight him seriously. The only interesting thing that happened there was when a Taichou assisted with the training or took them on exercises to Earth. Like that brawny baldy that came the week before and who seemed to take an interest in Grimmjow.

He had been fighting with the instructor when the pair came, the whole class stopping to look at them. Grimmjow didn't want to stop the fight; he would have time to look at the newcomers later. The instructor had other plans, though, and Grimmjow was forced to turn around.

And there he was. The boy of his dreams, still wearing a Shinigami uniform but the white haori over it told Grimmjow why he had been unable to find him. His body had reacted before his stunned mind could, and he had stepped up to him and engaged him in the only kind of conversation he knew how to carry. A fight.

The boy--not a boy anymore, but a Taichou--knew him. Both of them did, if the shock on their faces was any indication. The pleasure written on his face while he fought Grimmjow, not even surprised at the attack, had told him everything he needed to know.

But still his memories were locked; they had not come back to him.

Grimmjow shook his head, standing up. It didn't matter, now he had found him it was only a question of time.

...

"Unbelievable!"

Rukia was standing in front of him, her arms crossed in front of her body and her whole posture radiating menace. Ichigo ignored her and concentrated on his food.

"What are you doing still here, Ichigo?" she asked dropping to the floor and sitting cross-legged, Renji came into his room a few seconds later.

Ichigo looked up at him. "You told her?"

Renji snorted. "Of course I told her, she's my fucking wife and your friend. I had to tell her." Renji also sat down and Ichigo looked at the door, wondering if the next person to appear would be Byakuya, also looking at him with the same pitying irritation his friends showed. It wouldn't be surprising; Byakuya had become an almost permanent fixture in their lives after the war. Not that he was less condescending, but at least he had become more human.

"It's none of your business, Renji," Ichigo protested, anger beginning to well inside him.

"It's our business, Ichigo," Rukia said leaning forward and fixing him with one of her best no-nonsense stares. "You've spent fifty years grieving for that bastard, thinking he was dead. Now you know he's not. Why are you not looking for him?"

"I wasn't grieving," he grounded through clenched teeth.

He had not been, no matter what his friends thought. Yes, he had a relationship with Grimmjow during the war, if what they had could be considered that. They fucked. As much as they could in the midst of destruction, but it was just that, fucking. And yes, Ichigo might have felt some regret when Grimmjow died, but he had not been grieving or moping or whatever his friends had convinced themselves he had been feeling.

He was just fine.

If he had no one to warm his bed at night was because he didn't want, not because he was still in love--he made that train of thought derail right there. Not love. There was nothing of love in his relationship with Grimmjow, and even allowing that word to enter his thoughts now was foolish.

Seeing Grimmjow that morning had thrown his off centre, to say the very least, and engaging him in a fight had brought back memories and feelings that were best put to rest. His body had reacted, that much was obvious, and the lust he had thought dormant came back. But that was no reason to look for him.

Grimmjow was a complication, one he didn't need in his life right now.

"Ichigo," Renji said, his voice and expression completely calm, "I've never liked him, and I think I made no secret of that. Before or now it doesn't matter. I don't like him and I don't trust him. He was an Espada, for fuck's sake! I don't even know why he's here. He should be, by all accounts, properly dead."

"Tousen killed him," Ichigo said flatly, realizing just now. "Tousen was still, technically, a Shinigami. And his zanpakutou was made to cleanse souls. Grimmjow probably wasn't evil before he turned into a hollow, just unbearably annoying, so his soul was cleansed."

Rukia nodded, "It makes sense, a bit," she said. "But still doesn't explain why you're here instead of out there looking for him."

"You need to find him," Renji continued, "if only so you can fucking move on with your life. Actually, I don't care if you decide to shag the living daylights out of each other again, as long and you snap out of it! We've been watching you reject and keep everyone who wanted to be close to you away, and we're tired of it."

Ichigo sighed, his anger fading. They were right, and he knew they did it only because they cared. But he wasn't going to look for Grimmjow, no matter what they said.

"Have you forgotten, Rukia?" He finally said, "People here don't remember their previous life, it's a burden best left forgotten."

And that was what had been worrying him the entire afternoon since the moment the instructor returned and told them "Mizuiro" was asleep in his room and apologizing for his student's bad manners. _Mizuiro,_ not Grimmjow. It didn't matter if he looked like him, it was obviously another person.

"He seemed to remember enough of you when he attacked," Renji said, "And you won't know just how much until you talk to him."

"I won't go looking for him," Ichigo insisted, his tone final.

"You won't need to, Kurosaki-taichou," a new voice said from the door and all of the turned to look.

Ichigo didn't need to look to know who was at his door; he knew the voice perfectly well. "What are you doing here, Mizuiro-kun?" he asked wearily, the name tasting sour in his mouth. He was the last person Ichigo wanted to see right now.

Grimmjow scowled, his eyes narrowing and his entire posture tensing. He clearly didn't like what he heard any more than Ichigo did. He almost rolled his eyes.

"_Grimmjow._" Ichigo finally said breaking the silence fallen between them.

Grimmjow smiled, more like a smirk. "I knew that was my name, and I knew you knew me. You will be able to tell me what I can't remember."

...

_Ichigo coughed, blood dripping slowly from his lips on to the hard ground. He tried to rise again, the broken Zangetsu close enough to grab if only he had enough energy to stretch his arm out._

_He had been unable to summon his mask for the past few minutes, and had lost count of the times it broke in the middle of the fight. And still Aizen stood, a bit bloodied, a bit battered and somehow not quite so amused as before. But he stood, alive and so terribly powerful Ichigo realized now the gap between them._

_But he couldn't give up. If he gave up and let Aizen win everything they'd done would have been for naught, and he didn't want to picture the smirk in Grimmjow's face if he let himself be killed by someone else._

_Even if that someone else was Aizen._

_"It's useless, Kurosaki-kun," Aizen said sheathing his sword, "you can't win against me."_

_Ichigo cursed Gin and that previous fight that had sapped his strength, though he could tell that even before he was no match for Aizen. He wondered if there was someone who was, and hoped so or everyone would be doomed._

_"You're back; any problem Kaname?" Aizen said looking back._

_Ichigo startled at the voice and focused on the recent arrival. Tousen. He looked the worse for wear and it was clear he had not come out of the fight unscathed, but the fact he was there and Grimmjow wasn't told Ichigo everything he needed to know._

_A wave of despair and fury crashed over him, his body moving with an energy he had thought all but spent before, Zangetsu reforming on the ground. He was on his feet, mask already covering his face before Aizen had the chance to turn around to look at him. Ichigo launched himself against Tousen at the same time several masked figures arrived. _

...

"Grimmjow Jaggerjack."

He tasted the name in his mouth, his lips curving in an insane grin. It felt right, better than anything he'd heard before. He looked at the boy--the Taichou--Kurosaki Ichigo. He had been talking for a while, looking at him and telling the principal events of what he knew of his previous life.

It wasn't much, but it would have to be enough. There wasn't anyone else who could tell him if what Kurosaki said was true.

"So I was an Espada," he said slowly, trying to remember the little he knew about the war against Aizen. Even after fifty years it still dredged up too many memories and people was reluctant to talk about it. "An Enemy. Why do I have the feeling I was more than that?"

Kurosaki looked uncomfortable for a minute, then he looked Grimmjow in the eye and sighed.

"You were an enemy, at first. We fought, several times."

"But we're still alive, at least you are." Grimmjow didn't think he'd ever entertained the thought of leaving an enemy breathing after a fight. Being an Espada against a Shinigami, that notion was ridiculous.

"We were interrupted almost every single time," he said with a small smile and a far away look on his face. "The last time--"

"You killed me?" Grimmjow ventured though he was sure that wasn't it. It didn't fit with what he could guess from Kurosaki's expression.

"No, I didn't."

Silence fell between them, not entirely uncomfortable but with the weight of too many things unsaid. Grimmjow didn't like it; this guy knew more than he was letting on, something was off. Everything he had said, about the war, about hollows becoming arrancar was the truth, Grimmjow didn't doubt it. But something was missing.

Kurosaki said at some point Grimmjow turned against Aizen. Why? Why would he do that?

"You're not telling me something, Shinigami," Grimmjow finally snapped, the word coming from his mouth unchecked. He blinked. Why had he called Kurosaki that?

Grimmjow wasn't the only one startled by it, as it appeared by Kurosaki's expression. His eyes narrowed and he stood up.

"I've always hated when you call me that," he said slowly, almost to himself. "Go, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow also stood up. "No."

"Go now, Grimmjow," Ichigo insisted, a scowl settling on his face. "I've had enough of this conversation."

"You're hiding something from me," Grimmjow approached him slowly, seeing how Kurosaki's expression closed off and his entire body tensed. _He's expecting something,_ he thought. What, he didn't know. He took a step closer, stopping mere inches from Ichigo and the next he knew, Grimmjow was on his arse on the ground.

"Leave now, Grimmjow." Ichigo's voice was dead serious and his eyes showed the promise of pain to come. Grimmjow was sorely tempted to stand up and hit him, provoke him enough to get, if not the answers he sought, at least a satisfying fight.

Instead he just stood up and left.

...

_Damned Grimmjow!_

Ichigo took a deep breath when the door closed and dropped to the floor, closing his eyes. Fifty years, fifty fucking years and he was still able to get a rise out of Ichigo every single time.

He had been close to losing it there at the end, so tempted to grab his head and crash their mouths together. Let things follow their natural course from there. It was clear this Mizuiro, this Grimmjow remembered little enough of his past life but was still the same annoying bastard he was before.

And he was still unbearably attracted to him. Ichigo had been painfully hard during all the conversation.

Maybe he should have taken Renji's advice earlier and found someone to relieve tension with. He would not be in the embarrassing situation he was now in that case.

Not caring about anything anymore, Ichigo let his hand move down, part the folds of his clothes and take hold of his aching cock. He stroked himself slowly, picturing the old Grimmjow on the back of his closed eyelids: the Espada, bones protruding from his face and that tantalizing hole in the middle of his defined stomach.

_"Come on, Shinigami, you know you like it. You keep coming back for more. Admit it, be it fighting or fucking you are never satisfied."_

His hand moving faster, Ichigo thought about their first times together, when there was more blood than pleasure and he usually looked as if mauled by a tiger. A panther would be more precise.

It gentled a bit later: there was enough blood and pain around them to make their few moments together another war. It still toed the line between pain and pleasure, but at least this time was because they liked it that way.

He increased his pace, his climax so close he could almost taste it.

_"Don't let them kill you, Ichigo. That's my job."_

With a moan that sounded like a name, Ichigo came.

...

Part II (soon)


	2. Chapter 2

The other side of the moon

**The other side of the moon  
Part II**

The training exercise in Earth had been sheer torture, and this time Renji was definitely the one to blame. The fucking bastard had included Grimmjow in Ichigo's group, obviously his way of telling Ichigo he couldn't hide or run away from this particular problem.

Ichigo didn't doubt whose idea had been in the first place, but it was easier blaming Renji than Rukia, so he glared at him on their way back from the Academy after leaving the students there.

He had not been terribly surprised when they went to pick up the recruits and he'd seen Grimmjow there, staring at him with that smug expression he remembered so well. He had known his _friends_ weren't going to leave well enough alone.

"He's the best of his class," Renji had simply said, trying to conceal a smirk of his own. Ichigo had never felt so much like killing him.

But he was the best of his class, that much was clear. Grimmjow's kidou was weak but his swordsmanship and fighting skills were on a complete different level than the rest. He also was the only other student with Shikai.

He had kept his distance; just looking at Ichigo and waiting, but it had proven enough of a distraction just to have him there. When the attack from the Hollows came Ichigo felt almost relieved to have something else to occupy his mind.

Ichigo had taken a step back, ordering the students to surround the three Hollows and observing them.

Grimmjow, the show off, had released immediately.

_"Kishire, Pantera."_

Ichigo had reacted to those words, and in a way he hoped wasn't obvious to the rest of the group. That Grimmjow's zanpakutou was called exactly the same as before was only proof that with or without his memories the bastard was still Grimmjow no matter how much Ichigo refused to acknowledge the fact.

He had watched him fight against the Hollow, slicing it with an economy of movements and a speed clearly displayed sorely to impress him. He was impressed. And hard--damn his body for being so attuned to the bastard.

Ichigo couldn't wait for the exercise to be over so he could go back to his rooms and deal with his problem.

They had been the first group to finish, Ichigo making sure to keep the rest of the students between Grimmjow and he. He wouldn't put it past the bastard to realize the effect he had on Ichigo's body and take advantage of it. He really didn't need to put on another show in front of the students and his self-control was at an all-time's low.

But Grimmjow had behaved strangely well, making Ichigo even more nervous. He had been glad when Renji's group joined them and they went back to Soul Society.

Ichigo opened the door to his room with a relieved sigh, hoping to be granted a few minutes privacy before Rikichi came to give him the day's report. An empty hope, he realized seeing who was waiting for him inside.

How the bastard had arrived before Ichigo was a mystery.

He closed the door, leaning wearily against it. "What are you doing here, Grimmjow?"

"I dreamed of you again."

Of all the things Grimmjow could have said, that one he would have never expected. "What?" He asked dumbly.

"The only things I remember from my past life are the dreams, and you are always in them. Why? Why you? Why not Aizen or the other Espada?"

Ichigo didn't know what to say. He shook his head. "I've no idea, Grimmjow. People usually don't remember or dream about the past here. Why you do, I don't know." But he did, or at least he suspected. Only it was ridiculous--there had been no feelings involved in his relationship with Grimmjow before.

Grimmjow stood up and walked up to him. "I think you do. Don't you want to know what the dream was about?"

Ichigo shrugged trying to look uninterested. His body was betraying him again, but he would be damned before he let it show in front of this guy. "A fight, probably."

Grimmjow laughed. "You could call it that way, I guess." He took another step forward, his body so close to Ichigo he could feel the heat radiating from it. "It was because of you, wasn't it? I turned against Aizen for you."

"No," Ichigo lied, his voice rasping. He couldn't think clearly with Grimmjow so close to him and his raging arousal.

Grimmjow chuckled, the sound low and deep forcing Ichigo to suppress a shudder. "You're lying," he closed the distance between them, his head tilting to the side so he could whisper in Ichigo's ear, their bodies pressed against each other. "We weren't just enemies, we were more. That's the missing piece, that's what my dreams have been telling me all this time." He pushed his hips up and Ichigo could feel Grimmjow's arousal colliding with his own straining cock. He bit back a moan, holding tightly on to his frayed control.

"What are you talking about, Grimmjow?" he managed to ground out between clenched teeth.

Grimmjow didn't reply, instead he ground harder against Ichigo, his lips moving from his ear to his neck, biting. Ichigo couldn't help himself; he pushed back closing his eyes, a moan stuck on his throat.

"We were lovers, weren't we, Ichigo?"

That did it. His eyes snapping open, Ichigo put his hands on Grimmjow's chest and pushed him away. Hard. He took a deep breath to compose himself, glaring at the fallen Grimmjow.

"Lovers?" he laughed harshly. "Love had nothing to do with it. We fought, we fucked, and then we fought some more. That's what we did and I don't intend to repeat the same mistakes again."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, glaring at Ichigo. "Right, so we fight first if you want it that way," he said standing up and launching himself at Ichigo.

Ichigo blocked him easily, gripping his arm and shoving him against a wall, trapping him there with his body. "We're not fighting, _Mizuiro-kun,_ and we're definitely not fucking," he said, using the name he so hated just to drive the point home. "You're forgetting you're not an Espada anymore. Grimmjow might have been on equal grounds with me, but you're not."

Grimmjow struggled, almost managing to break free before Ichigo twisted his arm harder, forcing him to surrender or risk a fracture. "Fucking liar!" Grimmjow growled. "I've seen it, I've felt it. You want me."

Ichigo let go of his arm and turned him around, his hand moving to the place where the bones used to be. "Not you, _him._"

There was no need to explain what he meant.

"I _am_ Grimmjow."

"No, you're not. He's dead. He died for me."

They stayed like that for a few seconds, both of them staring speechless at each other. Ichigo couldn't believe the words that had just escaped his lips, and he would give anything to take them back, to take the knowledge of their truth out of his heart.

He was happier in denial.

He let go of Grimmjow and retreated to the other side of the room. "Go away and don't come back."

Grimmjow looked like he wanted to protest; Ichigo grabbed his sword and unwrapped it, pointing it at his throat. "Fuck off from here; I'm not in the mood right now."

With a final glare, Grimmjow opened the door and almost collided with Renji, who had just arrived. Ichigo looked at his friend and put Zangetsu back in its place.

Renji looked at him taking stock of the situation and rolled his eyes. "Sake?" he asked materializing a jar from god-knows-where.

...

He had been so close.

_The fucking coward!_

Grimmjow seethed on his way back to his room in the Academy, his mind replaying the last scene again and again.

He had suspected since the previous conversation the connection he had with Ichigo, but with nothing to prove it even to himself he wasn't going to say anything. He had waited years to learn about his past, he could wait a few days more.

Then came the dreams. More vivid and real than any he had before. And in all of them appeared Ichigo. Fights, blood and more violence Grimmjow had ever seen. Dreams of war and destruction, and him standing next to Ichigo, fighting with him, fighting against him.

And the last one, the one that made the missing piece fall into place. There had been an Espada dead on the ground, a horned mask covering half his head and Ichigo bloodied and half dead also lying on the ground. A girl was next to him, something like a field of light covering Ichigo and making his wounds disappear.

"Inoue, please heal him as well," Ichigo had said signalling at Grimmjow when the girl was finished with him. She nodded reluctantly and moved to Grimmjow, the field of light spreading around him and healing his also beaten body.

"I'm going to check on the rest of the group, Kurosaki-kun. See if someone else needs to be healed," she said, looking between Ichigo and Grimmjow with a sad expression before leaving them alone.

"It's the second time I save your arse, Shinigami," he said stalking towards Ichigo.

"I could deal with Ulquiorra on my own, Grimmjow," Ichigo said, shrugging. He grabbed the front of Grimmjow's jacket and pulled him close, "You just wanted to take him on." He pressed their mouths together while Grimmjow laughed, pushing him against a nearby wall and grinding against his body.

"Yeah, you're right."

They tore their clothes apart in their eagerness to get undressed, biting and scratching and almost undoing all the girl's work healing them. Ichigo turned to face the wall, bracing his hands against it.

"Fuck me now, Grimmjow," he said.

Grimmjow woke up in that moment, all the doubts he had before gone now.

He had thought confronting Ichigo would get him the results the expected, but he had been disappointed. Worse than being rejected, he had been clearly shown he wasn't strong enough to do anything about it.

Grimmjow didn't know if he was furious with Kurosaki or himself for not being able to beat the truth out of the fucker.

But he had reacted to Grimmjow. His body had responded, eyes completely unfocused and ragged breath, trying to get closer and far away from Grimmjow at the same time. And those low sounds Ichigo didn't seem to be aware he was making--Grimmjow had wanted to take him there and then, had wanted him more than anything in his life.

He may have been forced to leave this time, but he wasn't going to quit. He would make Kurosaki Ichigo his, like he was supposed to be. Like he was before.

...

_The rational part of his mind was telling Ichigo he was in no state to take on Tousen. The rest of his mind was drowning in a sea of fury and despair, thinking of things unsaid and the lost chance of ever saying them._

_All because of this man._

_Ichigo attacked relentlessly with a power he didn't know he possessed before, his mask holding in place when common sense dictated it should have been destroyed before._

_The arrival of Shinji and the visored was timely, giving Ichigo the chance to fight against the one he wanted to kill more than anything right now without worrying about Aizen._

_Grimmjow had done a good job fighting Tousen, Ichigo noticed seeing the blood dripping from his sword hand and the way he favoured his right leg when moving._

_A cero was shot to his right, the ground shaking and a piercing shout splitting the air. Ichigo didn't know what was happening in that corner, his mind focused only in his current enemy, but it gave him an idea. __Splaying his hand like he had seen Grimmjow do several times, Ichigo focused all his energy and shot his own cero at Tousen, following it with the black Getsuga, putting all his remaining energy on those attacks._

_He felt them connect with their target, Tousen keeping silent even in the face of death._

_Another explosion shook the ground next to him and Ichigo turned to look._

_He didn't have the chance to see the result. His mask finally breaking, Ichigo fell to the ground, exhausted and unconscious. _

...

"He's right you know," Renji said, his voice clear and sober though they had consumed several jars of sake.

Ichigo was feeling slightly sick and way drunker than he had wanted to be. He felt pleasantly blurry and his tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth more frequently than he liked--all in all it wasn't at bad feeling. At least Renji had been smart enough to avoid the topic. Until now.

"Ung?" he said incoherently.

"Grimmjow, he's right. He _is_ Grimmjow, arrogant bastard that he's always been."

"No," Ichigo shook his head to empathise the denial, a wave of dizziness hitting him at the sudden move. "Grimmjow's dead, Tousen killed him."

"You're more of an idiot than I ever imagined," Renji sighed. "I heard you before and it wasn't your fault!" He rolled his eyes, mumbling. "I should have guessed; you and that guilty complex you like to carry around. I swear you're worse than Rukia."

"He turned because of me," Ichigo insisted.

Renji threw up his hands in exasperation. "Get this through your thick head, Ichigo. We were at _war_ and Grimmjow was the enemy. He turned because he wanted to, and if he hadn't he would have died anyway. At your hands probably. At ours most definitely."

Ichigo blinked slowly, what Renji was saying had a ring of truth in it but he couldn't completely understand it in his current state.

"You being lovers probably saved him from a true death, or have you failed to notice there are no other cleansed Espada around?"

"Not lovers," Ichigo insisted.

Renji snorted. "Say what you want, you _were_ lovers and you've been grieving. And now, you're acting like an idiot."

Renji stood up and walked to the door. "I have to go home before Rukia decides to come looking for me and beats the shit out of you for being a moron. Go to sleep, Ichigo, and think about what I said. Find Grimmjow and fuck him or let him fuck you, whichever you prefer. But do something!"

With that he was gone, only the echo of his words repeating again and again in Ichigo's head until he passed out.

...

_Everything was over when Ichigo returned to consciousness._

_Las Noches was nothing but a pile of rubble and sand in the middle of the endless desert that was Hueco Mundo. As if it had never existed._

_The list of casualties was long, longer than expected; around him were only weary faces and tears of sorrow. Four Taichous had given their lives in the battle, six fukutaichous had also lost theirs and even two visored had died killing Aizen. The number of seated officers and other Shinigami lost didn't bear counting._

_Of the Espada none were standing._

_Ichigo closed his eyes, refusing to think about him. Not now. Possibly not ever._

_He looked for his friends, glad to see they were still alive. Renji and Rukia were hugging tightly, all the things they had wanted to say to each other finally spilling from their tired hearts._

_Chad and Ishida were helping tend the injured, both of them clearly exhausted but unharmed._

_Orihime was crying quietly in a corner, the weight of all the people she couldn't save crushing her. Ichigo approached her and looked at the body she was kneeling next to._

_A feeling of unreality hit him then seeing his face staring emptily at the sky._

_"What?" he asked confused._

_Inoue turned around to look at him. "They got your family, Kurosaki-kun, and your body--you can't come back."_

...

Ichigo woke up with a pounding headache and the feeling something had died in his mouth. Damned Renji and his cheap sake, he wanted to curl in a corner and ditch all his work for the day. But he couldn't, there was a meeting scheduled for that morning and though Ukitake-soutaichou was more relaxed than Yamamoto had ever been Ichigo didn't want to be on his bad books.

He dragged himself out of bed and into the shower by sheer willpower, the worst hangover of his life and a thousand unwelcome thoughts making him whish the day was over before it had even begun.

Renji and Rukia were right, galling as it was to admit it. He needed to confront his feelings and either forget about Grimmjow once and for all or find the bastard and let him back into his life.

He wasn't sure which prospect was less appealing right now.

He got out of the shower and got dressed, still considering what to do. Grimmjow--and he had to admit he really was Grimmjow--was a sadistic bastard, arrogant and foul mouthed. He was violent, cocky and rude, and had no respect for other people's privacy and feelings. All things considered, he was the worst partner anyone with half a brain could ever choose.

He was also the one Ichigo had chosen. If he had been unable to forget about him in half a century believing he was dead, there was no way he could do it now knowing he was alive.

It was a no-brainer, really.

His mind made up, Ichigo donned his haori and grabbed his sword, ready to face the day.

Grimmjow had been seriously considering going back to Kurosaki-taichou's room and beat the shit out of him, when a tattooed guy appeared at the Academy. He wore the insignia of the Fifth Division's fukutaichou. Kurosaki's Division.

He located Grimmjow in a second and walked up to him.

"Grimmjow Jaggerjack," the guy said loud and clear staring at him disapprovingly. Grimmjow almost groaned; every eye around fixed on him. He could hear the whispers beginning around them. "Kurosaki-taichou wants to speak to you. Please come with me."

"Did he say Grimmjow?"

"Grimmjow? Isn't he Mizuiro?"

"Wasn't Grimmjow one of Aizen's Espada?"

He glared at the people in the class before leaving, following the fukutaichou without a word. He would find out what was that about when he was with Kurosaki.

They walked for sometime in silence, bypassing the Fifth Division Taisha and the rest of the Shinigami buildings in Seiretei, their destination obvious as they approached the execution grounds. Grimmjow wondered why he was being led that way while they descended before reaching the hill, following some steps hidden on the ground.

"You can leave, Rikichi," Kurosaki said when the two of them reached the bottom.

The guy nodded and flash-stepped out of there leaving Grimmjow and Kurosaki alone.

"You called, Kurosaki-taichou?" Grimmjow asked mockingly eyeing Ichigo. He wasn't wearing his haori and he had his sword in his hand, unwrapped and ready to strike. "Did you want to talk to me?" Though it was clear conversation wasn't what Ichigo had in mind.

Ichigo smirked. "No, talking never did us any good in the past."

That worked for Grimmjow, he unsheathed his sword and pounced, intent on taking any advantage he could get in the fight. Ichigo blocked him, parrying with that ridiculously huge sword of his and moving swiftly to his back, trying to take him by surprise.

Grimmjow twisted round, dodging the blow and countering with a kick that forced Ichigo to retreat a couple of steps. "This is what you wanted, to fight?" he asked, grinning. He felt good fighting Ichigo, felt right, images of half forgotten dreams superimposing in his mind.

"No, I don't want to fight either," Ichigo said attacking again.

Grimmjow laughed at the incongruous answer. "What do you call this then?"

In a second Ichigo was standing in front of him, their faces mere inches apart. "Foreplay," he replied before putting a hand on the back of Grimmjow's neck and pressing their lips together.

Grimmjow let go of his sword, the clatter when it hit the ground doubled by Ichigo's next to it. He put his hands around Ichigo's waist and wrestled him to the ground, both of them rolling on the hard sand, their mouths still locked.

He couldn't understand it. A couple of days before Kurosaki had been adamant in his rejection, and now--now he practically jumped him. Not that he was going to complain, far from it. He could fuck Ichigo now and ask the questions later, either way he was getting what he wanted.

Ichigo came on top, straddling Grimmjow's waist while his mouth moved down, kissing and licking his neck, his hands busy undoing his student's blue uniform. Grimmjow's hands weren't idle either; he undid the sash of Ichigo's hakama and began undressing him as well, his hands itching to touch him.

"No scar," Ichigo mumbled against the skin of his chest, his tongue licking a trail down to his navel, "no hole either. Pity."

Grimmjow was going to ask what he meant but his voice trailed off in a moan as Ichigo scooted further down, swallowing him.

"Fuck!" he groaned, his hands instinctively moving down to grip the orange spikes. He trust up into the willing mouth, unable to stop himself and not overly concerned about protocol or good manners. Somehow he knew Ichigo wouldn't mind, not if what he could remember of their previous relationship was right. Ichigo let him do it for a minute before putting his hands on Grimmjow's hips and holding him firmly against the ground, his mouth moving up and down Grimmjow's cock at a slower pace.

It was maddening, all that suction and pressure and the warm wetness and the bastard was keeping it slow enough for Grimmjow to be impossible to come. With an annoyed growl, Grimmjow pulled at Ichigo's head, forcing him to stop what he was doing. Ichigo looked at him with a smirk and Grimmjow couldn't help himself, he pulled him up and kissed his swollen lips, rolling them until Ichigo was where he should be: under him.

Ichigo laughed against his mouth, spreading his legs to let Grimmjow settle there and grind their crotches together. "I'm going to fuck you now," Grimmjow said moving his lips to bite his ear.

Ichigo moaned, pushing his hips up. "What makes you think I'm not the one who's going to fuck you, Grimmjow?"

Grimmjow laughed, biting harder. "I can remember at least that much. You like it this way."

Ichigo didn't bother denying it, not that it would have done it any good. They kissed fiercely, tongues and mouths and teeth clashing, trying to devour each other while they rutted on the ground, their breaths mingling in harsh pants.

"If you're going to fuck me, Grimmjow," Ichigo finally said breathlessly, "fuck me now."

Grimmjow didn't need to be told twice; he positioned himself and pushed slightly inside. Ichigo stiffened under him.

"Fuck, it's been too long to do it like this," Ichigo said through gritted teeth, his voice laced with pain. Grimmjow kept pushing inside, slower than he would have done otherwise but not stopping.

Ichigo breathed thought his slightly parted mouth, riding the pain with his eyes screwed shut. Grimmjow felt him shake under him, his obvious discomfort doing nothing to help him keep steady. He wanted to pound into him and make him scream like he had seen in his dreams.

"What are you waiting for, a formal invitation?" Ichigo said opening his eyes when Grimmjow stilled, fully sheathed inside.

Chuckling Grimmjow began to move, thrusting forcefully inside Ichigo's tight body. Ichigo moaned, his nails digging into Grimmjow's bare back painfully.

"Fuck, it hurts!" he said, pushing up to meet Grimmjow's thrust.

Another laugh. "Yes, and you love it."

Ichigo glared at him but didn't say anything, his eyes closing again when Grimmjow angled up, hitting his prostate with the next thrust. His hands grabbed Grimmjow's head and pushed his head down, kissing him and biting his lips until they could taste blood. Inflamed by the taste, Grimmjow moved faster, pounding into him.

Ichigo came with a groan, his body arching up and tensing under Grimmjow, the pressure too much for him to hold out any longer. A couple more thrusts and Grimmjow was coming, his climax bringing with it a familiar and unwelcome feeling.

_Oh fuck. No way._

He finally understood everything, his eyes narrowing and his lips pressing together to keep the terrible words from spilling. He saw Ichigo's lips thinning in the same manner, his expression chagrined.

Grimmjow withdrew and flopped on to the ground next to Ichigo, staring at the false sky in that strange place.

"I was going to ask you what all this was about," he finally said not looking at Ichigo, "but I think I don't want to know."

He heard a laugh coming from his side and risked a quick glance, Ichigo had his eyes closed, his naked body sprawled on the ground covered in scars and semen. He wondered which of those scars he had put there before and wanted to put more, to mark him with fresh ones.

"You know you won't remember everything," Ichigo said after a while, opening his eyes. Grimmjow shrugged.

"It doesn't matter, does it?"

"No. You're Grimmjow, whether you remember or not."

They stayed like that, letting the fake sun warm them. At some point Ichigo climbed on top of him and ground against his cock making Grimmjow hard again, impaling himself and riding him furiously, both of them breathless and panting with exhaustion when it was over.

"Let's get out of here before Renji and Rukia decide to look for us in case we have killed each other," Ichigo said standing up and putting his clothes back on.

Grimmjow looked at him from the ground, his lips curving in a smirk. "That wouldn't be so bad, you know."

Ichigo looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "I'd rather fuck you than kill you, Grimmjow," he said before flash-stepping out of there.

"Yeah, me too," he said to no one in particular.

That was as romantic a declaration as they were ever going to say out loud.

…

**Epilogue:**

Ichigo looked up from the file he was reading at the sound of his door opening. There were only two people in the whole Soul Society who dared enter his office without knocking, and he wasn't expecting a visit from either of them.

Grimmjow was standing at the door, his new uniform looking surprisingly well on him. After dressing all in white, black seemed to suit him as well. Pity it covered his chest.

"It's finally over," he said sitting on a corner of Ichigo's desk. "Fucking Academy and fucking lessons, I'm glad I won't have to go back ever again."

"What are you doing here, Grimmjow?" he asked wearily. Grimmjow had gotten into the habit of pestering him while he worked, trying to provoke him into leaving the office for a shag or a fight or both. Ichigo usually gave in, which was the reason he was so behind his paperwork.

He didn't need another scolding from Ukitake-soutaichou.

"I didn't get a request to join your Division, Ichigo," Grimmjow said.

Ichigo shrugged. "That's because I don't want you in my Division."

Grimmjow glared at him. "Why, I'm strong enough to be here."

Ichigo glared back. "You suck at kidou and have an attitude problem. Don't respect the authority and antagonise your peers and superiors. And my fukutaichou hates you. Why would I want you here? You're perfect for the Eleventh."

"Your fukutaichou hates me because he wants to be the one fucking you, Ichigo," Grimmjow laughed, climbing down from the desk and circling around him, settling at his back.

"Go away, Grimmjow and report to the Eleventh. They want you, I don't."

Chuckling, Grimmjow leaned down to bite the nape of his neck. Ichigo shuddered. "You want me, don't lie."

"Not in my Division," he insisted.

A hand sneaked round his wait and settled on top of his hakama clad cock, Ichigo was instantly hard. "I could do this every day," Grimmjow said, his lips moving along his neck, his hand pressing down.

Ichigo sighed in defeat, tilting his head back to grant him better access, his hands dropping the file on top of the desk.

The door opened again. "Ichigo you bastard, you've forgo--" Renji's loud voice reached them from the door and Ichigo snapped back into the present, flushing.

Grimmjow didn't even had the grace to look ashamed. "I'll go now, Kurosaki-taichou, you have somewhere else to go."

He laughed on the way out, ignoring Renji's glare and Ichigo's embarrassed mutters.

Taking a deep breath Ichigo stood up, grabbing his haori. "Right, Academy, I forgot again." He took his sword and pushed past the frozen Renji. "Not a fucking word, Renji. I remind you this was your idea."

Renji opened his mouth, though better of it and followed Ichigo, closing it.

Next time he would make sure to knock.

...

Fin


End file.
